Hello everyone! I know it's been ages since I wrote anything, but this little scene was in my head this morning when I awoke.
~Riene
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A Bit of Phic
He grasped her arm ruthlessly and propelled her forward, down corridors and across empty rooms. Moonlight fell in fragments through the empty, gaping windows. His eyes were flat, expressionless. It's always worse on nights like this, she thought.
The frenzied wind tore briefly at the mask, and for a moment she caught a glimpse of the livid scars beneath the fabric. Don't look at me, he hissed, the words slurred and distorted. Had he been drinking again?
She stumbled on a loose board. The wooden floor was so damaged she often wondered how long it would continue to support their weight. But she'd lost weight recently, it was true. He wrenched her arm up behind her back and thrust her forward. She fell to her knees, bruising the tender flesh.
The stage is set, my dear. Dance! Sing! I have paid for you; you will sing for ME! You will dance for ME!
There were no servants to hear. None passed the night in this ruined, haunted spot. Oh god, she thought, help me, but she did not pray aloud. There was no god, there was no savior. Her savior would never come again. He lay buried beneath the rubble, beneath other flame-scored blocks of stone.
His fingers bit cruelly into her arm, adding fresh marks to skin already purpled and mottled. His eyes, behind the mask, were anything but sane.
Erik's eyes had been more sane than these.